Accidents Waiting to Happen (34 page)

“But I knew what they were going to do.
 
I should have told you,” she said through the tears.

“It’s not important.”
 
Strangely it wasn’t, a month ago the suspension would have been the supreme downfall in his life.
 
But now, it was an inconvenience, just another nail in the coffin of normality in Josh Michaels’ life.
 
It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
 
Certain elements in his life had the ability to bring about a personal apocalypse, but losing his job wasn’t one.
  

Jenny regained her composure and left his office.
 
She returned with a cardboard storage box and helped Josh pack his things.
 
He doubted he would return.

On the drive home, he considered his spiraling downfall.
  
He felt himself cowering under the volley of stones thrown at him.
 
It was time he started lobbing a few rocks himself.
 
Who would be first?

He pulled up in front of his garage and got out of the car.
 
At this time in the afternoon, a quiet had fallen over his street.
 
It was a place between events, the time of day when kids were at school and parents either were at work or on their way to collect their children.
 
Screams, shouts and laughter from a neighborhood school less than a mile away carried easily on the afternoon breeze.
 

Josh went to the passenger’s side and clumsily removed the cardboard storage box.
 
The box contained his office possessions he wanted to keep—framed photographs, a mug from Abby with a picture of his plane on it, an expensive Parker pen from Kate and other personal belongings.

After locking the car, he carried the file box to the front door.
 
Awkwardly, he tried to open the door with the box in his arms.
 
He managed it with some effort and dexterity.
 
The door clicked open and he knocked the door ajar with his knee.
 
Just as he stepped inside, someone called him back.

“Mr. Michaels…Mr. Joshua Michaels?” the man asked.

Josh didn’t recognize the man walking up the path towards him.
 
He was a big man with an army style haircut wearing a cheap sport jacket and non-matching pants.
 

You’re either a cop or another reporter, please be neither
.
 
“Yeah, I’m Josh Michaels.
 
What can I do for you?”

“I wonder if I could have a moment of your time, sir.”
 
The stranger dug inside his jacket for something and produced a wallet, flashed a shield and returned it to his jacket pocket before he reached Josh.
 
“Lieutenant Tom Jenks, Sacramento Police Department.”

Bingo, my day keeps getting better and better
.
 
He had guessed right—his visitor was a cop.
 
Maybe he wouldn’t get his chance to fight back today.
 
It was another banana peel he hadn’t seen until it was too late.
 
He nodded to the policeman.

Jenks stopped about one pace too close for Josh’s liking.
 
The encroachment into his personal space made him take one step back and he backed into the door.
 
It shuddered open.
 
Imperceptibly, Josh stumbled, but regained his poise.
 

“You’d better come in,” Josh said.

“Thank you, sir.”
 
The detective followed Josh into his house.

Josh placed the box on the floor next to the living room doorway then gave the lieutenant his full attention.
 
“What can I help you with today?”

“I would like you to accompany me, sir.”

“Where to?”

“I would prefer to show you at this point.”

“What’s it in connection with?”

Jenks sighed.
 
“All will become clear later.
 
If we could make a move, I would appreciate it, sir.”

Josh narrowed his eyes.
 
Why doesn’t he just drop the cloak and dagger stuff and spit it out?
 
It had taken this cop sixty seconds to piss him off.
 
“Is this to do with Margaret Macey?”
 

“Sir, can we go?
 
I don’t have all day.”
 
Jenks extended an arm and showed Josh the way out from his own home.

“I’ll write my wife a note first.”

“That won’t be necessary.”
 
He saw Josh’s frown.
 
“We won’t be long.”

Josh didn’t like being bullied, but he wasn’t in the police’s good books as it stood, so he didn’t see the point in antagonizing them any further.
 
He followed Jenks out the open front door to his car, a new Chevy Malibu.
 
They got in the Malibu and pulled away from the curb.
 

“Am I under arrest?” Josh asked.

“No, sir.
 
All will become apparent very soon.”
 

Some of these guys really get off on their jobs.
 
This is probably some technique for sweating the suspect.
 
He was convinced this had something to do with either Margaret Macey or the Dixon development.
 
The cops were just dying for him to incriminate himself.
 
He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
 
He settled back to enjoy the ride.

After several moments of quiet, Josh noticed the car didn’t have a police radio or any other police equipment, for that matter.
 
He hadn’t been in enough cop cars to be sure, but that didn’t seem right.
 
He shifted in his seat.
 
“Where’s your police radio?”

Jenks shot Josh a look then glanced at the space where Josh was staring, the place where the police radio should be.
 
“It’s a new car, I only picked it up today.
 
It hasn’t been fitted yet.
 
Anyway, we all use cell phones and beepers these days.”

Josh glanced over to the odometer.
 
“The clock reads over three thousand miles.
 
You’ve been busy for one day.”

Jenks hesitated.
 
“It’s only new to the department.
 
The city can’t always afford new cars these days.
 
Federal cuts to the city’s budget.
 
Not enough tax dollars.”

“Oh, yeah,” Josh said suspiciously.
 
“Those buttheads on Capitol Hill don’t know their ass from their elbow.”

Jenks blurted out a laugh.
 
“Yeah, I like that.”

Where’s this guy taking me?
 
Josh decided it was advisable to be aware of what was happening outside the car as well as what was happening inside.
 
They were still on I-5 northbound heading towards downtown.
 

Josh shot a glance at Jenks’ waist.
 
His sport jacket was splayed open and exposed his trim gut.
 
He wore no shoulder holster and no gun was to be seen.
 
Something cold and clammy crept up Josh’s spine with small hard fingers.
 
He had no idea who he was sitting next to, but he wasn’t law enforcement.
 
Perspiration formed on Josh’s brow.

The Chevy peeled off I-5 and traveled east on J Street.
 
Jenks threaded the car through the grid of streets that constructed the downtown district.
 
The familiar and comfortingly populated blocks thinned in favor for the partly derelict and unused commercial areas scarred by the light rail lines.

They were a long way from police headquarters and this part of town had nothing to do with Margaret Macey or the Dixon job.
 
Fear charged Josh’s system.
 

“Could I call my wife on your phone?” Josh asked.
 
“I think she’ll be wondering where I am.”

“No.
 
In a few moments our business will be complete.”

Josh smelled it.
 
The smell was the stink of his own sweat in the air-conditioned chill of the car’s cabin.
 
Was Jenks aware of the manifestation of his fear?
 
It didn’t matter how much he put up a strong defense, his body ratted him out.
 
To Josh the odor was gathering momentum, so he squeezed his arms tight against his body.
 
Disgustingly, the dampness spread further over his armpits and down his sides, soaking into dry shirt material.

Josh glanced at Jenks.
 
If he wasn’t a cop, who was he?
 
James Mitchell’s partner?
 
In retrospect, nothing made Jenks an officer of the law.
 
He had the suspicion he was being taken to meet James Mitchell.
 
He didn’t care to be around to find out whether he was right or not.

The Malibu slowed and came to a gentle stop at the intersection.
 
Jenks surveyed the road, waiting for the sporadic traffic to clear.
 
Josh took his chance.
 
Simultaneously, he punched the safety belt release and yanked on the door handle.
 
The belt recoiled, making a whizzing sound like a bottle rocket.
 
The door lock clunked and the door opened.
 
Josh made for the street.

A ratcheting click came from behind.
 
Jenks produced a gun from God knows where and roughly stuck it in Josh’s face.
 
Josh felt the coldness of hard metal against his cheek.
 
The smell of oil and burnt firecrackers filled his nose.
 
He flicked his eyes to the black pistol jammed hard against his flesh.
 
The weapon rubbed uncomfortably against his cheekbone and the gun felt as heavy as it looked.

“Now, Mr. Michaels.
 
Close the door and buckle up.
 
Our journey isn’t over—yet,” Jenks said without irritation, but there was a hardness to the word “yet” that could crack diamonds.

Josh’s escape had amounted to a half-opened door and one foot on the doorsill.
 
He sat back in his seat and closed the door while cheek-to-cheek with Jenks’ gun muzzle.
 
He fastened the seat belt and Jenks drove across the intersection.

“No more thrills, Josh.
 
I hope you don’t mind me calling you Josh?”

Josh said nothing and stared straight ahead.

“Just so we understand each other.”
 
Jenks shoved the gun into Josh’s groin.

Josh winced at the intrusion.

“Move it and lose it,” Jenks snarled.

The car bounced over the light rail crossing onto cracked asphalt.
 
A layer of rubble from a nearby demolition coated the road surface.
 
The pieces crackled against the underside of the car’s floor pan as they bounced over another poorly covered, disused rail line.
 
The gun muzzle bounced between Josh’s thighs.
 
He gasped in fear of the weapon going off by accident.
 

Jenks heard the gasp, looked at Josh and laughed.
 
“I suppose I should be careful with your valu-balls,” he said and laughed again.

Jenks made a left and drove the car down an alley between two disused, whitewashed factories.
 
The signs were long since gone, giving anonymity to the last occupants.

The car came to a halt behind a dumpster.
 
“Time for business,” Jenks said.
 
He pressed both of the seatbelt releases and the belts whizzed back against the door pillars.
 
“Get out.”

Jenks removed the semi-automatic from Josh’s crotch and both men climbed from the car.
 
He motioned with the pistol for Josh to move.
 
Josh moved ahead of the car with his head cocked over his shoulder at Jenks several feet behind.

A smile cracked across Jenks’ angular face.
 
“I bet you have no idea what this is about, do you?”
 

Josh thought for a moment.
 
“You’re right.
 
To be honest I haven’t a clue.”

“Well, I’m not going to explain it all, but you’re worth a lot of money to some people.”